Come With Your Weapon

Come, friendly bombs, and descend on London
The fits cascade on human sufferings or casualties
They fit in the yesterdays, as a future too bereft
Today concerns us when we ascertain the degree

Come, O weapons, and fire at soldiers of fighting and treason
Let the judge of crimes be heard at last
Shall the military judge accept your story so consumed?
Will events last on the shelves of minorities?

Combat embellishes me and my crew of defeaters
To blow me to smithereens!
To brightly walk in the company of the army
In the face of a battlefield, the one planet

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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